Population Control

Camille

In the morning, the birds tweeted, and the wind was calm. When I was keeping watch the rain was pelting at the windows still. Try as I might, I couldn't stretch properly, and I didn't want to step outside because I could make out a few Rabid's beyond the motorway border. Jason was awake, and he was moving his left arm, using his right to feel along the makeshift limb. He held his left arm up, the top of the fingers flipping down. With his right, Jason moved to interlock both hands. Not wanting to interrupt, I watched. After a while, he gently ran a finger down his forearm. "I should be able to feel that." He whispered. "Like, my brain knows I should feel it and it's making up a sensation. But it's not real, the sensation and the arm, and my brain also knows that."

"You're taking this better than I expected."

Jason hummed. "I don't think it's fully hit me yet. Besides, I don't really use my left arm much."

Everyone had a toilet break before we left, and I never want to reimagine the sounds I heard while keeping watch. Three Rabids were getting too close, so I shot one first time, missed two arrows on the second one, then took four shots to kill the last. "Thought I'd be better now." I complained and ripped the arrow from the dead undead decaying bodies. It looked a family of three.

It's a nice thought that, when the undead die, they give back to the earth, fertilising the nature they helped destroy in their human life.

What should have been fifty minutes took us longer: lugging cars from the middle of the road, shooting and slashing any undead in the way. And with Jason's one arm it took us even longer. It was never just one Rabid, either. Like everyone travelled and died with their family.

The closer we got to Folkstone the more seagulls circled us and the more dead bodies lined the streets. A lot of people must have had a similar idea when Hell broke loose.

I tried the radio again, but nothing in English, and I could only understand greetings and objects in French. I made out "England" and "danger" and "virus".

"What happened?" Matthew asked quietly. I looked out the window and across the pavement were clumps of dead bodies. And not Rabids, but motionless, still, unbreathing human bodies.

"Why did you stop the car?" Asked Dylan.

"Look..." Weakly, Jason pointed. I gasped when I saw. Like a sea, people were piled one atop the other heading into the horizon. Face down. Limbs everywhere. Some parts of them were chewed in, their blood spilling into the drains.

"What now?" Sami said and put the car in neutral but didn't turn off the engine.

"Could we leave the car here?"

"No, we're not close enough to make it on foot safely." Jason said.

"We could move them out of the way." I was met with silence. There was something different, gruesome, about touching a dead human body compared to a Rabid. Touching their loose human limbs other than those of the undead.

Matthew took a deep breath. "Yeah."

"What?" Exclaimed Dylan, like he couldn't believe it.

"Matthew and I will do it if you don't want to." I took off my belt, climbing from the car and taking my bow with me. The end of every arrow was covered in some degree of blood, some flesh, and a bit of brains.

We moved body after body to the pavement, piling them up like they were a stack of books. As I put a small body atop a woman's, my eyes caught that of an undead, all blotchy and colourless. It happened in slow motion. The man lifted his head, lolling it to the side like he had no bone structure keeping it straight. I made a noise of panic that put me in more danger than if I walked away. But it grabbed at me over the bodies, falling into the stack. Quickly, I grabbed the dead body I still had a hold on and thrust it in the way. I had a human shield. In my arms the limbs flailed as the male Rabid bit at the boy to get to me. The boy looked like he weighed nothing, but I suppose a dead body can't support any of its own weight. Around the boy's head the male Rabid's teeth snarled at me. Their heads collided but I shut my eyes and felt saliva, warm and thick, on my cheek. Quickly, I stuffed an arrow in its head, revelling in the safety when it squelched, and I pulled the arrow back.

I didn't look at the boy when I dropped him by the back of his shirt. I looked back at the car and caught Dylan's gaze. Quickly, he looked away. Scowling, I looked at the red contaminating my hands and wiped them on my jeans.

The tension in the car was so thick I couldn't penetrate it with an arrow. Quietly, Jason navigated Sami through the roads and the tight bends. He had gotten a lot better at driving than when we first started – a lot faster.

We came up to a gated area by the front of the beach – still haven't seen the beach, we came at the place from the town. The gate was gone, just a few metres down the street with a big dent in the middle. "It should say Roberts on the front gate."

Each house was still tidy on the outside. Nothing covered the clean white walls or the shining golden gates. Every house was the same with its wide windows, tall black roofs and a its own personal turning circle secluded by its own personal golden gate. It was almost untouched, no Rabids past the main gate. The only difference being the placement of the bins. Surnames were written in big, glittering letters on the gates, and finally we came across 'Roberts', as perfectly cursive as the rest.

Everyone got out of the cars, and I found myself attracted to Dylan's side.

"Matthew missed Sami a lot." I said. There was an awkward air between us, one so bad a knife would struggle to cut it.

Dylan muttered, "He missed him, too", and added nothing else. He looked out into the horizon. They never cut their hair, even at Gemstone, so it blew in the cold air like a Greek God.

"I missed you." I admitted.

"Same" Even though he was as far away from me as politely possible.

"Don't think we've ever spent so much time apart."

"Exactly"

"Thanks for, you know, sticking by me."

"Sure"

He was so distant. We've never been this distant. We've always been able to tell each other everything. "Are you OK?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He sighed, and when he finally looked at me, he smiled. But couldn't look me in the eye.

"Are you sure?"

"Cam, we don't have to do this" His smile was wilting.

I pushed for more, fighting the urge to physically comfort him in some way. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"Are you joking?"

I knew who this was about, who else would it be about? I'm going to miss them, but Quill will survive. We'll probably see Freddie and them again because they're smart people. "I'm sorry, about leaving Quill-"

"Sure you are" He muttered just not under his breath enough for me to hear.

I am! I am so sorry for leaving them behind but, Dylan, what other choice did I have! "Dyl, come on. I know you liked them but-"

"You basically killed all of them." Said with such indifference I wondered if I was talking to the same person. I didn't- I would never- how can he think that!

"And you don't care-"

"-Of course I care!"

"Do you? Really? Tell me why you let those braindead monsters in. Tell me why you thought it was a bright fucking idea to murder a town of people." He was shouting by the time he finished. Dylan had never shouted at me like this before.

"We had to get you guys out!" I yelled back.

"You didn't have to destroy a town to do it!"

It wasn't like we left them defenceless. "We didn't mean to! And they'll be fine! They all go through an initiation anyway!" I shouted like I did when my parents told me about their divorce. Everyone there must know how to fight! It's been months since the epidemic started so surely, they're all skilled.

We stood in silence as I caught my breath. He looked at me, staring into whatever I had left of my soul like he was looking for something. His eyes darted between my own, and I didn't know what he wanted from me. "I hate who you've become."